It’s still tattooed on my arm. When I glance down – I can still see it. Right now. And yet. Again. I lose hope. Hopefully not all – but sometimes – a lot. It seems like all.

I wrote briefly about what happened this summer – and while someday I know that I can write more about it – it’s still not time yet. It’s still too fresh and too painful. Too close. I’ve watched my best friend – my husband – the father of my children – break. The hardest thing for me to deal with – you might have guessed it already – is control. Or lack of. I can’t control it. I can’t make him better. I can’t make choices for him. I can’t. Not that I won’t. Because I would. But – I can’t.

As I write this – I am 38 weeks and some days pregnant. I cannot believe that it’s almost over. I laid down with Fitzy for his nap the other day and studied his face. Tried to take pictures – but nothing I took captured the contours of his face the way I saw them. Now – I get that I’m extremely emotional right now – but I really couldn’t get a shot of his face exactly the way I was seeing it. It made me cry. Which isn’t hard at all anymore. But I just laid there – and took in those moments – our last few moments where it’s just him. And me. Even typing it now – it makes me tear up. Will he remember these times? I hope he knows how much I love him. How his little soul has carved such a deep place in my heart. How he is my favorite and will be even when Enoch is here in our arms – my two favorite boys.

I’m not ready. I’m not ready for another change. These past four months have been the absolute hardest of my entire life. I’ve cried more than I ever thought possible. I’ve exhausted my words. I’ve waited for God to swoop in and fix everything. Truthfully – I’ve waited to wake up. I’ve waited for Jared to wake up in the morning and be the man I knew. To look at me with those sea green eyes of his – the way he used to. And everything will be like it should be. I can’t believe that we are almost due – because I feel like I was just learning that we were pregnant. The past four months – while the days have been hard – have FLOWN by.

And you’ve seen this many times on our blogs – but here it is again. A promise. Because it helps explain – everything.

You will get pregnant again. And even though you will default in your minds that you will probably miscarry – oh no. You will have a healthy child – possibly twins! It will be huge and massive BUT you must keep it to yourselves and announce at the END of the first trimester.

(It will be huge and massive. I didn’t know what that meant – and I still don’t – not quite. But huge and massive. I feel like it’s huge and massive that I’ve made it. That we’ve made it. And while I know I lean toward the dramatic – let me tell you – it’s been hard. Massively hard. Hugely hard. And it’s not over. It’s just starting.)

This is a promise from God and you will rename the son Enoch. God is NOT done with you. He’s just starting. You need to tuck this word on your hearts and cover it. The Enoch tattoo was intended as a remembrance BUT in God’s time was a prophetic act as to your next son’s name being branded.

(This is a PROMISE from God. He is NOT done with you. He’s just starting. This is just the beginning? Crap. I don’t know if I’ve written about my box before – but I have one. It used to be neatly wrapped in layers of duct tape. LAYERS. To keep God in. To keep me comfortable. Then my jaw pain started. And a few layers came off and I got on my face before God and prayed. Which was huge – because only crazy Christians do that. And I told satan to leave me alone – which was massive – because only crazy Christians do that. I memorized Psalm 46 and recited it all the time. Again – crazy. And then I got comfortable in life – and the box stayed in it’s corner. Then we miscarried. And that box came back out. But God – I took a few layers off – why. Why would this happen to us. And I got angry and put a few more layers on. Took them off – tried to stick them back on again. By this time – that box wasn’t pretty – frayed and sticky. God’s light peeking through the cracks – but I didn’t want to know what He has in store for me. Because it might scare me. Most likely will scare me. And ask me to give up some things I love. Some things I can’t live without. Okay – can but won’t. Don’t want to. Then we got pregnant – so surprisingly – and the layers came off and I let God in a little deeper. He did answer my prayer for a baby after all – I owed Him that much. Sure God – I can let you in a little deeper – get a little crazier. And here I am – with that stupid box. Still wrapped up. Because even after all this – I’m afraid of what God has for us – things that I know will be amazing – even if eventually – but scary and out of my control.)

It will be a massive testimony and will restore relationships, friendships, and family ties in ways you never thought possible. It’s going to be mammoth. It will be full circle. Both of your families will be remarkably astounded at what God will do through you in this next pregnancy. BUT you MUST NOT announce it until the end of the 1st trimester. Not even to close friends or family. YOU MUST WAIT!

(Again – that word – MASSIVE. MAMMOTH. Both of your families will be astounded at what God will do through you in this next pregnancy. It will restore relationships – friendships – family ties – in ways you never thought possible. Check. Check. And check. Friendships have been repaired – friendships that I thought were beyond any sort of repair. Family relationships have been healed. Because I was in a time of absolute need? Because I was hurting – we were hurting – and really in the end – why were we having issues in the first place? Remarkably astounded. God has given me remarkable strength and grace. Strength and grace to deal with mania and depression and what comes with each of those. Things I never imagined I would encounter. Ever. Strength to be a fantastic momma to an amazing little boy. Strength to carry a miracle – a promised child of God. Strength to stand by my husband when I wanted to run. And hide. For a long time. Grace. Forgiveness. A love that runs much deeper than romantic love. Deeper than – kiss you on the way out the door – love. Deeper than – XOXO – written on the bathroom mirror. Love that fights. Love that is ugly and beautiful at the same time. Love that makes you sob on the bathroom floor. Love that makes you pray harder than ever. Love that writes YOU CAN DO IT on the bathroom mirror. Love that fights. That screams. Love that makes you angry. Love that keeps your family together. Love that means far more than anything you could have imagined when you said your vows. Love that only Jesus can teach. Love that I was – and still am – incapable of on my own. I don’t know what I imagined those words could have meant – what God will do through this next pregnancy – but I didn’t imagine this. THIS is why I keep that box sealed up. Because it’s been scary and out of my control. And I’ve begged God. Why this. Why now. Why us. Why. Just why.)

I honestly feel stronger about this than the word I gave you for Fitzy! You can’t even tell me when you first find out – I will already know. You can’t tell ANYONE! BELIEVE IT! RECEIVE IT! ACT! God is good and will be massively glorified through it. Save these messages for confirmation and documentation. Not for me – but so that we can honor Christ Jesus & God’s ridiculous faithfulness. He is good. He is really REALLY good!

(I am holding onto those words. That God is good. REALLY really good. I know that God is good. But it’s really really REALLY hard for me to say that THIS is good. So I don’t. Because while I believe that God is good – I don’t believe that everything that happens in life is good. Because – we live in a sinful world. Not the perfect world that God intended at the beginning. And we can hope for good and hold onto good. But some things that happen – just suck. After the summer and fall we’ve had – I couldn’t take another thing. Not. One. Then I got a rash – I thought it was just chafing from a little extra poundage. Nope. Turns out – it was shingles. SHINGLES. Seriously. And since it’s in a very sensitive spot – it needs to clear up before Enoch comes in order to deliver. Seriously. The pain. The absolute ridiculousness of the situation. How on EARTH is getting shingles at 37 weeks pregnant while my life is already a hot mess – good. How. But – I do know that God is good. That – I will not let go. Because. I won’t. I can’t.)

And because LOVE HOPES ALL THINGS – I’m holding onto hope – even if it’s just a little tiny bit. Because sometimes – it just is.

And because LOVE HOPES ALL THINGS and little Fitzgerald was and is the hope of my heart – more than I could have ever imagined a child being – here’s a few pictures of his sweet little face to look at. And see. That miracles happen.

LOVE HOPES ALL THINGS. Even when life is more ugly than you ever imagined – LOVE HOPES ALL THINGS.

And even when you can’t imagine anything in your life to say thank you for – there is. Even if it’s just the chance to get up tomorrow and start a new day. Even if it’s just that you have breath in your lungs. Even if it’s just the chance to fight. LOVE HOPES ALL THINGS.

For me – it’s just that my husband is still here. Which isn’t just a just.

It’s that he’s still here. It’s that there are glimmers of who he was. Who he will be again. It’s that little face with those sweet brown eyes. That he calls me momma and I call him my son. That in what could be a few short days or a few short weeks – another little boy will hold my heart.

And for all of us – it’s that God LOVES you. And that LOVE – hopes everything.

As always, you are able to share so freely and write so well! Love you and know beyond all knowing that God is in control and will bring good out of this entire situation!! Hug all those precious boys for us!!